Corpse Bride the Return of the bride
by solair
Summary: Its been ten years since the events of the Corpse bride. Life has not been kind to Victor or his wife, Victoria. From the shadows dark forces move, forcing a suprising but dakr turn of events. rewrite of Return of the bride . This is a dark story
1. Chapter 1

The Return of the bride.

Chapter one – Echoes from the past

It had been ten years since the fateful night, when the 'dead walked the streets'.

As timed past and days turned into weeks, it'd been agreed by most to keep the events of that night dark. Not to let what they'd seen become common knowledge.

Pastor Galswells sermons had taken on a more radical line, he said it was because of the villages lack of faith, that God had punished them.

Over the years life had continued, Victor had taken over the fish monger, and his wife Victoria had become his charming bride.

Although people would speak to the couple, politely, in secret they were thought to be 'cursed' by the events of that night, and Victors association with Emily, the corpse bride.

When it became common knowledge that the couple had no luck in bringing children into the world, this added more weight to the more radical amongst the village that they were indeed cursed.

Five years after the wedding, a violent storm rolled in, the sky's had an ominous green tint to them.

As the wind picked upward, they wiped over the roofs of the small village, slates flew smashing into the ground. Forked lightning fell from the skies, hitting the ground again and again, followed by three inch wide hail stones. The hail smashed through windows, they killed live stock, and put three unfortunate villagers into early graves.

The old manor house to which Victoria had been brought up, was hit by lighting thrice, sparking a massive blaze.

In the morning, much to Victoria's grief, the bodies of her parents were found and what remained of the bed chambers.

Other houses were also hit in lightning, roofs were blown apart, scattering slates and debris all over the village.

As the chaos and destruction of that night rained down, the one house that seemed remarkably untouched by the storm, was the Van Drot's house.

The funeral for the Everglot's was a small affair, only Victoria and a few family members from her side, and Victor's parents were in attendance.

No one within the village paid much attention to the affair, as the Everglot's were seen as a rather aloof family.

Three days after the funeral, they even received a letter from Pastor Galswells, stating that while he was responsible for his 'flock' as he called the villagers, they were not welcome into 'gods house'.

With the whole village seemingly turning against them, the couple sold the fish merchants and moved far away from the village.

On the west coast of England was a small fishing village of Oakvale, a small well to do house sat on a hill over looking the village and harbour below.

As Victor has said; "It was a new start for them."

Victoria had agreed, but secretly she started to wonder if they were indeed cursed, had they, and more lightly Victor been responsible to all the misfortune inflicted on their village and her parents?

Was all this because Victor had been to a place no living person should ever go, the land of the dead?

Victor had taken a job within a large warehouse on the docks, which dealt with the fish stocks of the fishermen, and export of the fish to factory units to which it supplied.

A year after the move...

Victor had been promoted to manager of the whole factory, the one thing that he was good at was figures. It had been a hard year for the young couple, they had to prove themselves to the village folk, and of course Victor to the warehouse owners.

It was on a Monday morning that Victoria had been busying herself within the house, keeping it tidy, when there was a knock at the door.

Although the house was not small as such, they had no use for servants, and so it was just the two of them, to be honest Victoria preferred it this way.

As Victoria slowly opened the grand oak door of the house, there standing in the porch way was a young man in a black tailored suite.

"Miss Victoria Van Drot?" He asked in a monotone manor, which instantly had a chill run down her spin.

"Who may I ask are you sir." She replied half hiding behind the door, ready if needed to shut it in his face.

He handed her a card; it read. 'Pilkins Solicitors'.

"My name is Marcus Pilkin, and I am afraid I come with some rather bad news. To which I would I'm sure you'd rather hear inside rather then standing on the doorstep." His voice raised at the end of the sentence by barley an octave, but enough to infer a question, rather then a statement.

"Oh in that case," Victoria said as she opened the door. "please follow me into the study." She continued as she lead the young man into the house.

Once inside the small study, she pointed out a red leather backed gothic style chair, and sat down behind the desk to which Victor would normal sit.

Unknown to Marcus within the draw was a rather heavy club of wood, 'just in case', as Victor had always stated. Which had always left Victoria wonder in case of what, but now she knew.

Marcus opened his leather brief case, and pulled out from it a folder, with Victoria's parents coat of arms upon them. He carefully laid it upon the desk, and then retrieved three more items from the case.

This made Victoria curious, her parents had been dead for sometime, so just what had this Marcus have that was so important?

Victoria started to get a rather unease feeling.

"Maybe I should call for Victor..." Victoria said in a soft unsure tone.

"That wont be necessary, now if I can draw you're attention to this rather fetching crystal ball." He continued to say, in an offhanded manor. Victoria knew she should do some, get out of their, but why, there was nothing wrong was there?

As Marcus placed a six inch high clear crystal ball with a reddish small dot of light floating within it.

The ball was held by three small skeletons standing upright facing the crystal itself, they were cast from a strange black metal.

As Victoria started to look closely at the ball, and more precise the red dot within it, it started to pulse.

Within a second the little red dot shot light outwards, and slowly the skeletons turned their heads, within the eye sockets now shone a dim red light.

Victoria couldn't move, inwardly panic and fear started to rise within her.

"Oh don't try to move, because even if you wanted to, which I must say you more then probably do, you simply cannot." Marcus sneered.

Meanwhile in the office at Willis and Sons.

Victor had been working with the ledger he was down on his figures, not by much, but enough to warrant attention.

When all of a sudden he saw a butterfly land on his pen of all things. He was about to show it off, when he stopped and examined it. He'd seen this type of butterfly before, back ten years ago when...

His heart skipped a beat, looking up for a second, to where he saw Emily and she was pointing out the door, a look of extreme concern upon her face.

She slowly and deliberate mouthed a name, their was no sound, the word was Victoria, then she was gone.

Why would Emily be here and saying Victoria's name unless? A sudden panic built within him, he had to get home.

Grabbing his coat, he headed to the general manager of the warehouse, made his excuses and left.

If he were to walk, it would take him a full half and hour, perfect after a day at work, but not today.

The question which refused to leave his mind was a simple one, why after all this time had Emily appeared before him?

His mind raced back to the frantic day of the wedding, and at that entailed and the chaos it wrought. The day he'd almost wed Emily, but ended marrying Victoria after he'd set Emily's soul free.

All he knew was that for her to come to him, and say Victoria's name...

"Can I help you young man?" Came the friendly voice of Winston Millard, local coach man, and the man that Victor had set off to find.

"Yes, I need you to get me home, fast."

"Well I'd love to old man, but ya see, I got this here good paying fare, its going past you're way, but she said she'd be here in five minuets.

Fir minuets, the thought hurtled round Victors mind, if he waited five more minuets, even with the ten minuet trek by coach, he would still be there earlier then if he set off on foot now.

"Very well, we wait, but not a moment more then five minuets."

"Don't worry my man she never let me down before."  
"Who this young lady?"

"That's right, she's a pretty one as well too boot, goes by the name of Sally."

"Sally, so you're met her before then?" Victor replied in a half resigned manor.

"Noah lad, just this morning as a matter of fact..."

"Then how come you know, she be here on time!" Victor suddenly snapped, in panic. "And not be late, if you're only just met her?"

"I'm a great judge of character." Winston said with a hint of pride playing in his voice.

"Oh I'm so impressed" Victor mumbled to himself.

"Oi I hear that, I'm not deaf. Not to mention, she already paid, and I dont know anyone who would throw away good money and keep me waiting."

Seven minuets later.

"I thought you said you could trust her, that you didn't know anyone who'd 'throw away good money'. Well congratulation cause you met one Winston!"

"Its only been just a tad over five minuets..." Winston's replied.

"It's been seven minuets, now can we PLEASE just go!" an exasperated Victor demanded.

With a sigh, Winston, geed up the horse.

As it started to walk away from where it had been waiting for some time, a small movement caught Victors eye for a second, before his attention was brought back to the coach as it hit a pot hole.

Meanwhile, outside Victors house.

Marcus Pilkin waited by the gate, he saw a lone female figure walking up the path towards him.

"It's nice to see you again Sally."

"And you Marcus, tis good to see you."

"Have you done as exactly as I instructed?"

"Indeed, I would say that the coach will in deed by frightfully delayed."

"Good, very good Sally;" Marcus replied as he rubbed his hand together.

"Now for the second part of the plan, which is pretty simple. When you see Mr van Drot come up the road, use this blow pip. Now please be careful with the dart, as it caries a rather potent sleeping poison." He explined as he took the dart out and loaded it carefully into the pipe.

Once the dart has done its job, leave the rest to me."

"That's all well and good and the like, but where's me money."

"Oh yes, it all boils down to money." Taking out of his case a small leather bag he handed it over to Sally. "I think you'll find its all there, as agreed."  
Sally smiled, as Marcus turned and walked back into the house.

Twenty minuets later, Victor scrambled up the path towards his house, when all of a sudden he felt a sharp pain in his neck.

Within seconds he started to feel dizzy, before the ground rushed up to meet him.  
Behind the hedge a sound of chocking could be heard. Foam escaped the mouth of Sally, slain by the blow pipe, but the poison on the mouth peace, not the dart itself.

Inside the house watching from the bay window, Marcus let slip an evil, predatory smile.

"Two for the price of one, a new record for me, arh well on to work." He snared to himself.

Darkness...

There was darkness, and Victor was slumped against something, pushing himself up, he found that the something was an old church seat. Looking round he found himself in the church back in the village where he grew up, the church where the dead had come for his wedding.

But the question was what was he doing here?

On the alter was a single candle casting out light, forcing shadows to dance and play.

He heard movement coming from the darkness, as from behind the alter he saw a figure, and it was moving.

"Hello Victor..." Emily's voice echoed out, as she walked towards him.

"Emily, what are we doing here, I thought you were free...?"

"I am, but you, well at the moment I can say little, I really shouldn't be here, but 'they' said that I can come to comfort you, for of what is to befall you."  
"For what is to be fall me?" Victor repeated Emily's last statement, and didn't like the way she said it at all.

"Care to elaborate?"

"In a word my sweet Victor, no." Sheer sadness dripped from her ever word.

"Oh..."  
"But Victor you must draw upon you're strengths."

"But why Emily, you're not making much sense."

"It's all I can say, so please forgive me." Again she looked pained as she spoke.

She leaned in to him and kissed him on the check, "for luck" she whispered.

She turned and left, as she did so the candle flickered and died leaving his totally alone, within the blackness. Moments later he started to feel tired, and so slowly closed his eyes.

Magistrates court three days later. 

It had been four days since the bodies of Victoria, and Sally had been discovered in the couples house.

Victoria had been slain by a single blow to the back of the head, the doctors had said it had been mercifully quick if nothing else. Victor had been found with Sally, slumped on the dinning room table, a bottle of poison upon it. In front of the slumped Victor was a note, which read.

"To whom find us all, I have been living a lie, I never wanted to marry Victoria but was forced to do so against my will. The money from our wedding was used by her parents to keep them from the poor house. I never loved Victoria, and so when myself and Sally met some three years ago, a friendship slowly blossomed into a doomed love affair.

We could not continue to live this lie, and so we decided to brake the truth to Victoria, she was as you could imagine was besides herself with grief and anger.

She was going to return home, and black mail my parents, which I could never let happened, and so took it into my own hands to slay her.

I summoned Sally to the house, and dispatched her with poison in the wine, which I have put before me. Once I have written this letter, I will myself drink from the poison and let god judge me for my crimes, for I deserve naught but death.

Signed Victor.

"Well he didn't do a very good job did he know." A large ruddy faced man in his late fifty's said as he placed the later back on the table.

"No, I don't think he did, but his parents has asked me to help defend him. My card." The tall man in a black tailored suite said as he handed the other a card.

"Thank you Mr, Pilkin, we will arrange a visit to the prisoners cell for you."

With that the ruddy faced man exited the room, leaving Marcus alone.

"Everything's going well, you could say according to plan." Marcus jeered to himself.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The black hat

Victor's world had come crashing down around him. As far as he was concerned one moment he was falling the next he was in a cell, being accused of a double murder.

He'd been informed of the crimes which he was suppose to have committed.

His beloved Victoria dead?

This had to be some kind of nightmare that he would soon awake from, but didn't.

Days merged into nights, his cell had a small window at the top of the wall near the ceiling. The window was a foot wide, by six inches in hight.

The only light came from that, there was straw strewn upon the floor, and a bucket and that was a limit of his existence. The solid wooden door, wood occasionally open and a guard would scream something at him.

Victor retreated into his mind, he lost weight, his skin, became flaky, as he looked at his future, the hangman's noose.

One morning, two guard fetched him, he was bundled him into an old rickety cart.

The cart itself was a large black affair with two guards who sat atop of it. Inside which was a single bench seat, he was sat down, then his arms and legs clasped in iron.

"It's off to the courts for you boy" A guard sneered.

"While we prepare a little something for ya back here, don't ye fret it'll be a short drop of a long arm..." The other guard laughed as he closed the doors of the coach.

His words sent a chilling shiver down Victor's spine.

Sometime later after a rather uncomfortable ride.

The coach pulled in to the back of the courts, Victor was bundled out of the coach and into the building. From there he was half thrown into another small room; this time, there was no straw, it was a plain room, with a table and two chairs sitting in one was a tall man in a rather smart suite.

"That will be all, if I need anything I'll call."

The guards looked at each other, for a moment neither said anything, until the larger of the two spoke. "If you're sure, sir, he has been accused of murder after all."

"I am quite sure." He said in a monotone voice.

"Right you are Mr Pilkin." One of the guards replied, before they both left.

"Well, Victor, do you mind if I call you Victor, rather then Mr Van Drot?"

Victor sat staring at the wall in front of him, saying nothing.

"Victor it is then. Oh dear it really doesn't look good for you at all. From what I've been lead to believe, you killed you're wife, and poisoned you're mistress. Not the best of days that, I sure you'll agree. Mind you, then to top it all, you tried to kill you're self, but that was rather unsuccessful." He sneered.

Again Victor said nothing, just looked ahead saying nothing emotionless, and unloving.

He could hear something droning on, a man before him was speaking, saying something, but he cared not for his words.

Victor had given up all hope, as far as he was concerned he'd soon be back in the land of the dead, for good this time. There he be hearing the cheerful cries of 'new arrival' from Mrs Plum, and give a pint from the bar.

Leaning in towards Victor, Mr Pilkins whispered something into Victors ear.

Something that burrowed its way in, something that drew Victor's full attention to what Mr Pilkin had said.  
And within an instant he reacted.

From outside the room, there came the sound of a blood curdling scream of rage. Then almost a second later the sound of table and chairs overturning.

The guards rushed into the room, to find Victor with his hands around Mr Pilkins throat.  
Without a second thought one of the guards pulled his truncheon, and wrapped it around Victors head, sending him into a world of darkness.

"I told you that he couldn't be trusted sir, maybe next time you'll listen to us." One of the guards said to Mr Pilkins, who was dusting himself off.

"Yes, I know in hindsight I admit I should of listened to your guidance and wisdoms. But he looked so meek, I thought he'd listen to me and well maybe..."

"Well beg your pardon sir, but we have seen this sort of thing before, and I can tell you that as much as they may look meek and mild, they can be anything other then that, you're just lucky to have made it out in one peace."

With that the two guards along with Mr Pilkin left the cell door, and walked away, inside of which soft sobbing could be heard.

A few minuets earlier.

Leaning in towards Victor, Mr Pilkins whispered something which brought Victors attention into sharp focus.

"Do you know who I am?"

Victor said nothing, and continued to stair at the wall, rather then the man before him.

"No, let me put you out of you're misery shall I? My Name is William Barkis, son of the late Bittern Barkis, the rightful husband of you late wife. You know something strange Victor? He came to me three years ago to tell me of you're crimes, and how you murdered him in cold blood and stole his bride. And so we decided to take from you all that you hold deer. I killed Victoria, and Sally, forged you're suicide letter, and have framed you my dear boy for murder." He sneered.

Victor face turned from an uninterested state, to that of pure rage.

With a scream, he flew at William Barkis, before the door was flung open and he was restrained.

Now once again on his own he sobbed, trying to make sense of what had been said, how had Lord Barkis made it back from the land of the dead? Elder Galswells had said on more then one occasion it was almost impossible for the dead to leave the land of the dead, without help that was.

Slumping against the wall, he let the darkness take him.

"Victor my boy, wake up." A gruff but gentle voice said as he felt a bonny hand on his shoulder shaking him gently.

"We need to talk, and we don't have much time." Slowly Victor opened his eyes. Before him was was the ancient skeleton of the stooped Elder Gutnecht.

"What are you doing here?" Victor asked incredulously.

"I have been keeping an eye on you ever since you returned to the land of the living. You made quite a ripple when you left the land of the dead, and returned to the living. Your selfless acts had been noted, and so now in your time of greatest need, I have been sent to collect you my boy. For as one door closes another opens."

Victor was about to say something, when Gutnecht ran his hand down the side of Victor speaking in ancient Latin.

As he spoke, Victor felt a cold shiver pass though him, a moment latter he was standing upright looking at his body slumped against the wall.

"What have you done to me..." Victor whispered in sheer fright.

"Only what needed to be done my boy, give me your hand." He said in a gentle manner and both faded from view

Once both had vanished, it left the room empty save for the body of victor, which was slumped against the wall.

The sound of a key turning in the lock, announced the return of the guards to the room, as they opened the door, both guards saw the unmoving body of Victor van Drot.

As they rushed over to the body, they quickly came to the conclusion that there was nothing more that could be done.

One of the guards rushed out of the room, while the second, gently laid the body on the floor.

"I sorry sir, but when we came back to check on him, we found him like this." The voice of the guard could be hear explaining the situation to someone.

As the guard walked back into the room with Mr Pilkin, who looked a little shocked to say the least.

"Could I have a minuet with the deceased gentlemen. I need to make some notes, for our records and of course his family."

Both guards nodded, and then left the room, leaving Mr Pilkin alone.

Leaning over the body, he saw no signs of foul play, but there was a strange feeling, something he could not quite put his finger on.

Taking out of his pocket a small jar of chalk dust, he proceeded to form a pentagram on the floor, and then placed symbols, on each point of the pentagram.

Once finished, he draw a small blade and cut his finger, letting a droplet of blood hit each symbol.

Once the last was done, the pentagram pulse with life, and glowed an eerie white glow.

From the centre of the pentagram, a large column of grey mists bellowed upwards, it started to form into a hooded figure.

Three days later...

By the graveside next to the old oak tree near the village where Victor had been born. Victor Van Drot's mother and father paid their last respects to that of their son, Victor.

A boy whom had promised so much, and yet had murdered two woman, they'd been refused permission to bury him in the church yard. As pastor Galswells had proclaimed that Victor had been cursed and consumed by Satan, and no spawn of Satan would be burred in his churchyard.

And so here they were, where the whole tragic circle had began, the spot where the corpse bride had risen, and now Victor had been laid to rest next to her grave.

Around and within the trees of the woods, it seemed like a massive flock of black Ravens were watching their every move. They were silent, unmoving, just watching the funeral hidden within the shadows, a ghostly form watched the events unfold as well. As Victors mother turned to leave the grave yards she turned and caught something in the corner of her eye, something grey human shaped, but not solid. Then within a instant it was gone, Victor's parents left the lonely grave and walked back home, heart broken.

Out from behind the trees a lone figure emerged, it floated over to the grave, for a moment it simply hovering over it, then it slowly faded away before it vanished completely.

Unknown location.

After walking though the door Victor found himself standing on a grassy mound. Surrounding which was a outer stone circle of twenty four six foot high granite stones, within which was a middle circle of twelve Twelve foot high stone monoliths.

In the middle of the twelve towering granite monoliths was a large granite alter, around which were twelve stone thrones were situated.

As Elder Galswells walked through the door with Victor, his appearance changed, gone was the crouched ancient skeleton, in its pace was a robbed stooped over elderly man, who walked with a staff.

"Welcome Victor, to the sanctum of the watchers." He began as he waved his hand towards the stone circle before them. "You Victor Van Dort, have been noticed, your time spent in the land of the dead, has marked you out if you will, you have been touched by the supernatural. Thus drawing the attention of the Watchers."

Victor was still trying to get his mind around the dramatic change of Elder Galswells; "W...wh...what are the watchers?"

"we are my dear boy, you know of two of us, myself the Elder of the council, and my youngest recruit to the order, you know Emily I trust?"

As he spoke from behind one of the monoliths Emily emerged, gone was the appearance of the corpse, now she looked very much alive.

"Hello Victor, we have much to discus..."

TBC


End file.
